Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) (7 page)

THERE
were times when Sarah had no idea she was tense until exercise loosened her up. She felt really good by the time she got back to the apartment. Her legs felt weak – rubbery. Her face was flushed. Her soaking wet hair stuck to her skin. She felt fantastic.

As she stepped down into the living room, she peeled the sweatshirt over her head and froze. Derrick was on the floor in front of the couch, doing push-ups. She yanked the sweatshirt back down.

He hadn’t shaved, and he looked dark, dangerous, all the class and charm hidden for now. He wore a sweatshirt that had the sleeves cut off at the shoulder and a pair of spandex shorts, showing his long legs, well defined with muscle, covered with fine dark hair. His arms were lean and strong, the muscles bulged as he pushed himself up and down, and she noticed another tattoo on the top of one arm at the base of his shoulder, a rough homemade tattoo that looked like someone had carved his initials and just smeared them with ink. His other arm sported an elaborate eagle that went from his shoulder almost to his elbow.

She realized he wasn’t moving anymore. He was still in the push-up position, supported by his arms, and staring up at her. He didn’t move or speak, just stared at her with those eyes, trapping her. A bead of sweat trickling down his forehead seemed to break the spell he put on her, and she tore her eyes away and ran to her room.

SARAH
dialed the phone while she dug through the pantry looking for an extra container of rice milk. No one else in the family drank it but her, and she knew she had extras from the last time she stayed here.

She located it on the back corner of the top shelf as the phone on the other end was answered. “Mary, this is Sarah. Is Dennis still there?” She dragged a step-stool into the pantry while she listened to the recorded message give the benefits of Community Hospital over any others. She was teetering on the top step when the voice was interrupted. “Dr. Benson.”

“Hi, Dennis.”

“Sarah. What’s wrong?”

“My car is in the parking garage there. It wouldn’t start last night.” Just when she thought she would fall over, she was able to grab the carton and step back down.

“I see. Why?”

She left the pantry and cradled the phone to her ear with her shoulder while she pulled the plastic tab on the top of the carton. “I don’t know. It was completely dead. No lights or buzzers or anything.”

“Have you contacted a mechanic?”

The tab was stuck, so she pulled harder. It ripped off, but the container remained unopened. “No, I didn’t call a mechanic. I’m calling my boyfriend.”

She moved to the butcher block counter and grabbed a small knife out of the holder. “What is it exactly that you think I should do about it?”

Her hand made a fist around the knife and she stabbed it into the top of the carton, sending milk flying everywhere. “Ugh!”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. I just spilled some milk.” She ripped open a drawer and whipped out a dish towel. “Listen. Never mind. Do you get off at seven?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well have a good rest this morning.”

“I will. Thank you.” The telephone clicked in her ear, and she stared at it before hitting the button to disconnect it.

“Problem?”

She whirled around and spotted Derrick leaning against the kitchen door. He’d showered, shaved, and changed into slacks and a button down shirt. He was back to looking like a back page ad in GQ, and she felt her balance around him return. “No. No problem.”

“Your boyfriend helped, then?”

Her smile made her face feel like it was going to crack. “Absolutely. He recommended a good mechanic,” she said, lying through her teeth.

Derrick raised an eyebrow. “For a dead battery?”

“A dead battery?”

“You said no lights or buzzers. Did the engine make any sound when you tried the ignition?”

Her eyebrows came together in a frown. “The first time. Very weakly.”

“And this boyfriend recommended a mechanic?”

The frown remained in place. “Like you would recommend something different?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, sweetheart, as a matter of fact I would. But I am – what’s the word – competent.”

“I’m not your sweetheart.”

His chin gestured at the phone. “No, you’re right. You’re his sweetheart. I apologize.”

“I’m not anyone’s sweetheart.”

He smiled. “Ah, that’s too bad.”

Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed between them. “Derrick.” Her voice sounded tired to her own ears.

“Okay, sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He straightened and came all the way into the room. “Yes, I would recommend something different. I would suggest going to an auto parts store, purchasing a battery, and installing it.”

Very carefully, because she felt like throwing it across the room, she picked up the milk and poured it over her cereal. “Thank you. As soon as I finish eating, I’ll call Tony or Barry and ask one of them to help me.”

“No need. I’ll take care of it.” He spotted the mug sitting beside the teapot and poured the rich brew into it before setting it in front of her and getting his own cup.

“I don’t want to get in the way of your plans for the day.”

He added a little bit of honey to his tea and took a sip. “I have no concrete plans.”

Well, why not? She was desperate, after all. She had to be at work at seven that night and needed her car so that she could go to her mom’s and sleep. She certainly wasn’t going to stay here another night. “If you’re sure.”

SARAH
watched Derrick wield the tools with confidence as he replaced the alternator under her hood with a new one. They had already made two trips to the auto parts store, and she fervently hoped it would be the last. He drove like the gates of hell were opening behind him. She didn’t think she could stomach riding with him for another trip.

“How did you learn so much about cars, anyway?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure BU doesn’t offer mechanics courses.”

“I stole enough of them in my desperate youth,” he answered, trying to sound like he was kidding. He’d changed into worn jeans and a black T-shirt, and when he turned his head to grin at her from under the car, her heart did a little flip-flop. She rationalized once more that she really needed to get some sleep today.

“Stole what? Cars?” She glared at him. “You’re serious.”

His face sobered before he went back to fiddling with whatever it was he was fiddling with under the hood. “Hunger and survival can drive people to do a lot of regrettable things. Thankfully, we have salvation by grace or I’d be in some real trouble.”

“They have programs for families in need, Derrick. Crime isn’t the answer.”

“Sure they do,” he said, straightening and wiping his hands on a towel, “if you’re legal.”

“You’re saying you’re an illegal alien?”

“No. I was born here. But my father never bothered to marry my mother, just carted her here when his tour in Italy was over and then left her when the Air Force sent him somewhere else, so she never was legal.”

His logic didn’t make sense to her. “Still, once you were old enough to legally drive, you were old enough to get a job, right?”

His eyes were blank when they looked at her. “Once you’re in, sweetheart, you’re in. And there isn’t a thing you can do about it until someone bigger and stronger than them gets you out. Tony is way bigger and way stronger.”

“Well, Derrick. All this time I thought you were once just a petty thief. I didn’t realize you had graduated to grand theft auto. Still, there are all sorts of things ...”

She broke off when he stepped forward and laid his index finger over her lips, effectively silencing her. He moved fast, faster than she could imagine, and his touch for such violent speed was incongruously gentle. His movement literally shocked her into silence.

He stood close enough to her that the toes of their shoes touched. Her vision became his chocolate brown eyes. Through clenched teeth, he spoke, “Listen to me, you spoiled little brat. There’s a whole world out there you don’t remember or understand. As far as I’m concerned, you’re from the little blue house with the white picket fence and you don’t know anything about anything beyond that or Tony’s penthouse and private jet. If you ever want to know, without spouting one of your little self-important ignorant lectures, come talk to me like a person. Until then, kindly consider the subject closed.”

She glared at him, laying her hand on his wrist until he removed his finger from her lips. With a tone that rang self-righteously even in her own ears, she pronounced, “I know a lot more than you could ever understand.”

“Right,” he sneered sarcastically, his tone telling her just how judged he felt.

“Have you ever held a crack baby, Derrick? Or a heroin baby? Or seen a baby born dead because he had a heart attack and his mother was too stoned out and drunk to know she was even in labor? Because I have.

“I know all about that world out there, and I know and have heard every excuse for that kind of life that’s ever been told. If you want to justify your actions, fine, but don’t try it on me. You want to tell me you like the danger or the thrill, go ahead, but don’t give me puissant excuses about hunger and fear and a bad childhood. Pure rationalization. I don’t buy it.”

His upper lip twitched. “I bet it’s easy to sit back with a full stomach, clothes on your back, and heat in February and judge.”

She pointed at the tattoo creeping out from under his shirt sleeve. “I’ll admit I’m spoiled. But I don’t try to be something I’m not, either.”

His eyes narrowed and she reflexively took a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why do you still have those tatoos, Derrick? Proud of your past?”

She knew she had gone too far when she saw the complete hurt in his eyes. She opened her mouth to apologize but he turned his back on her while muttering, “Some of us can’t forget our past, Sarah. No matter how much I want to, I can’t forget. I’m not like you. I wish I could just erase it all.”

“Is there a problem here, Sarah?”

Both of them whipped their heads around at the same time.

“Dennis,” Sarah said as her face turned bright red. “What are you doing here?”